Chalk
by Jess9
Summary: Aftermath of TAIE. G/S... I know, I know, SO original. :)


Chalk by Jess  
  
October 5, 2002  
  
Author's Notes: Okay, so just like tons of other writing fans, I had to write about TAIE. It ended at a perfect place to start writing some fiction. :) I wrote this last night around midnight at my grandma's house so please excuse any mistakes and my lack of specifics.  
  
ANOTHER Author's Note: Thank you, Peggie, for informing me of my misspelling of "otosclerosis." Osteoclerosis, otosclerosis. :) I cannot spell medical terms and I am thankful for the correction. I changed it.  
  
Disclaimers: The characters are not mine.  
  
Spoilers: This takes place directly after the prelim in The Accused Is Entitled.  
  
Rating: Oh, PG-13 for language. I don't know.  
  
  
  
Upon their arrival at the crime lab, the group dispersed. Warrick went to the locker room to change out of his suit, Nick went to find Greg so they could do to the new club in town, Catherine stopped by the receptionist's desk for her messages, Grissom headed for his office, and Sara walked a blind trail behind him.  
  
The preliminary hearing had shaken her. She wasn't too fond of testifying in the first place, although she tolerated it more now than her previous years. She didn't understand how some defense lawyer could argue with evidence that was clearly laid out before the world. Today, though, having her personal life questioned... It had pissed her off. She hated that damn lawyer when she saw her on the television; now, she despised her every breath.  
  
"Sara?"  
  
She raised her eyes from the tile to find Grissom looking at her. She had followed him to his office. "Hey, Griss."  
  
He smiled gently and asked, "Are you o-" He paused, knowing the answer, and rearranged his thoughts. "Would you like to talk?"  
  
She shifted her weight to rest softly on her left side. "Now?"  
  
"Soon," he corrected. "At my house?"  
  
"Okay," she replied, not hesitating.  
  
He smiled again and said, "I'm heading over there right now."  
  
"I'll be right behind you."  
  
She arrived at his house thirty-two minutes later, nine minutes after him. It was 4:47 in the afternoon: a perfect time to start drinking. There was a wine bottle out when she stepped inside and she positively beamed at him. "I love how you think, Grissom."  
  
He was full of smiles that afternoon and he shut the door behind her. She shrugged off her jacket and dropped it on the chair by the door, along with her purse and, after a second thought, her heels. Grissom watched her dissemble her outfit. "You know, you really do look nice."  
  
She didn't respond. She just gave him an even stare. Before she could burn holes into his eyes, he took a step forward and gently pushed her towards the living area where the bottle awaited. He poured two glasses and sat on the couch. She joined him, a cushion between them, and took one of the glasses. He held his up slightly and asked, "To what should we toast?"  
  
"Being out of that courtroom," she promptly provided. They clinked glasses and hurriedly drank some of the crimson liquid.  
  
After a few seconds of silence, Grissom asked, "So is everything all right with you and Hank?" He hated the tone of his voice as he mentioned the EMT's name and prayed she wouldn't catch it.  
  
She took a single deep breath. He watched her closely, waiting for a firm berating out of her mouth. She replied, "There was nothing between us to make 'all right,' as you put it. We would watch movies. We would go out to eat sometimes." She took another sip and said, "There were never mutual romantic feelings. Serious feelings." His faced showed nothing and, for a moment, she was upset. Didn't he care? Wasn't she here so they could talk about the past days' revealings? She looked into her tumbler and swished the liquid around the sides. "Just friends," she murmured softly. Riled on by his lack of response, she cleared her throat and looked him in the eye. "Speaking of which, that Phil guy's a real winner."  
  
Grissom's eyes darkened. "Some people will do anything for an edge."  
  
She nodded, finally understanding the severity of pain her boss, friend, must have felt. "A human being at its finest." Grissom smirked but didn't reply. Sara hesitated before slowly stating, "I hope that doesn't happen to us."  
  
"What?"  
  
"He betrayed you," she frowned. Grissom nodded slowly. She continued, "I don't know what I would do... I mean, you are..." She glowered in his direction for a moment, frustrated at her lack of communicating her feelings. She sighed, "I hope-"  
  
"Don't ever worry about it," he smiled gently.  
  
She tucked her legs under her and asked, "What happened today, when you asked her to repeat herself?"  
  
Grissom tried desperately to think of an excuse, a way out. He finally stammered, "That's for another day."  
  
Her eyes brightened a little and the response to her question didn't seem to matter anymore. "Another drinking session with Dr. Grissom?"  
  
He smiled when she left the subject alone. He seemed determined to talk about something, anything, else. She wasn't in the sparring mood. She decided to talk about their friends.  
  
"You missed some horrid bloodshed," she sighed. "Nicky's was a massacre; she practically belittled his existence. She labeled Warrick as an addict and Catherine as an ex-whore who can't pass a fucking test." She met his eyes briefly and said, "I hate her."  
  
Grissom grimaced. He could not believe his ex-mentor had leaked personal information of his team to some filthy lawyer. "What about you, Sara? You escaped free of harm?"  
  
He swore her whole body jumped. She looked at him with a classic deer- in-the-headlights expression. She quickly diverted her gaze. He had struck a sensitive spot. He waited doubtfully for a response and was pleasantly surprised to receive one.  
  
"She insinuated that I posed the girl's bra in a way that would aid in a conviction. She said I wanted it that way and my 'boyfriend' had helped me out."  
  
"And you said..?"  
  
"I said I didn't want it anyway."  
  
Silence. "And that was the end of your testimony?"  
  
"No." She again sloshed her drink around in its glass prison. She drank it and Grissom readily poured her more. "She then implied that I... Remember the case where we knocked down all the those walls?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
"And you were pissed so you went outside to calm down?"  
  
"Yes," Grissom said, with an aching feeling he knew where the conversation was going.  
  
"Well, she could some resident there who said that he witnessed me touch your cheek in a... romantic... gesture."  
  
His words were gentler now. "And you said?"  
  
"I said I was wiping chalk off your face. And she said something bitchy like, 'Oh, is that what they're calling it.'" She scrunched up her nose. "I hated her."  
  
"Were you?"  
  
"Was I what?"  
  
"Were you wiping chalk off my face?"  
  
Her eyes floated somewhere around the coffee table for almost a full minute. She finally looked up, stared him straight in the eye with a boldness that surprised him, and said, "Of course not."  
  
Grissom didn't respond. They sat, absolutely stiff, nervous. They didn't drink. Awkward air floated between them and she tried desperately to think of an excuse, a good solid excuse, to leave. She opened her mouth when he finally spoke.  
  
"Otosclerosis."  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"Otosclerosis," he repeated. "It's hereditary. I'm losing my hearing and Phil knew. He told the lawyer and she spoke in a frequency I couldn't detect."  
  
"So how did you answer?"  
  
"I read her lips."  
  
Sara blinked a few times. "How long have you known?"  
  
"Three months."  
  
Anger quickly rose in her. "You've known all summer and you didn't tell me!"  
  
"What was I supposed to say?"  
  
"'Sara, I'm losing my hearing.' You could've said that. I could've helped."  
  
"Helped with what?" His voice rose with hers. "There's nothing to do."  
  
She almost barked another snappy comment at him but stopped herself. She took a few deep breaths and another sip of wine. She spoke clearly. "There's no surgery?"  
  
"There is. I'm considering it."  
  
"Chance of returned hearing?"  
  
"I'm never going to get all my hearing back. At best, I'll have seventy percent. The success of the surgery is ninety percent."  
  
"What's the other ten percent?"  
  
"It continues to worsen."  
  
She nodded. Grissom sighed. "I didn't want to tell you because I didn't want to put a burden on you."  
  
She gave him a withering look. "You're not a burden."  
  
The silence returned, although this time comfort engulfed them. It was in that welcome silence that their fingers touched for the first time in a breathtaking foreshadowing of what laid before them.  
  
  
  
I hope you enjoyed it! 


End file.
